


all that's left

by izayas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Amnesia, Established Relationship, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn, Survival, these tags are a mess i'm trying to tag something for each of the four
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayas/pseuds/izayas
Summary: one day, it’s road trips and proposals before flights back to argentina and black jackals arriving in tokyo. it’s navigating being friends with exes and preparing to confess to a childhood best friend.the next day, it’s the zombie apocalypse.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 83





	1. the end of it all

**Author's Note:**

> as always, a huge thank you to [loveandallthat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandallthat) for the beta ♡
> 
>  **please take note of the major character death warning.** graphic violence is more of a precaution; i don't think it gets that graphic but with the nature of this fic, some flesh ripping and blood will be mentioned. ships, in order of prominence, are: iwaoi (~40%), sakuatsu (~30%), matsuhana (~15%), kuroken (~15%), i'd say. but for that tag, all eight characters are considered to be main characters; however, i can say that a majority of them survive :)
> 
> will add warnings in the beginnings of chapters if there's something that might be sensitive but not prominent enough to include in the main tags. if you're here for either sakuatsu, matsuhana, or kuroken, sakuatsu starts in chapter 6, matsuhana in chapter 4 (hints in 3), and kuroken starts in chapter 4-ish
> 
>  **content warning:** about 700 words of oikawa about to try and end his life due to panic about being entirely alone in a zombie apocalypse. starts with "the world began to close in on him rapidly" and ends with "did someone see me?". it's about halfway through the chapter, closer to the end

He woke up to an eerie silence.

His eyes remained half-lidded, tried to squint through bleary vision to what one could only naturally assume to be a ceiling. The air felt stagnant, a sort of heaviness that left his limbs feeling weighed down against—he paused, twitched his fingers and pressed them into starched cotton and cushioning and legs shifted until his feet hit something metal—what one could only naturally assume to be a bed. A deep inhale dragged air through his nostrils; he could breathe, he thought, there was enough air for a deep breath.

That was a good sign.

The breath moved his chest, expanded his rib cage and sunk his body further into what he realized was a relatively thin mattress. As the last comfortable wisps of breath escaped his lungs, he curled his fingers and swallowed. He'd closed his eyes again and with the second breath came the first inklings of clarity and prickles of sensation through his body; it felt like a numbing wave was receding to reveal the sand and glass burrowed into his skin. He was able to move the rest of his fingers, numbly remembered he should have ten. He counted; there were ten.

He should have ten toes as well. It was harder to wiggle those individually and so he forced his eyes open again and this time, his vision cleared after a few moments, met again with what he assumed to be a ceiling.

White.

But it wasn't one shade of white or even one texture of white; smooth, latticed white metal lines highlighted distinctions among square panels of a duller shade. His lips were dry and it took a moment for him to think to reach his tongue out; even such a miniscule movement took considerable effort. His eyes closed again when he remembered the mission of checking if he had ten toes; brow knitting, he moved an arm in an attempt to sit up but stopped, felt something tug and a quick but sharp pain in his hand.

Hissing in pain, he immediately looked to his left. There was an IV attached to his hand, clear tape disturbed from when he'd tugged his hand without realizing there was anything in it. His right hand came up; he twisted his body and leaned onto the left side of his ribs unti a sudden burst of pain transpired through him, had him rearing back. This time he yelped; he immediately laid back down and reached a hand out to his side, winced when just a feathering touch sent ricochets of pain through him. He gasped and bit his lip as he waited for the dull aching to withdraw on its own, swore quietly. The sharp breaths he took only worsened the pain and he consciously limited how much air he brought in, found the uppermost limit of expansion for his lungs before his ribs protested.

His mind was still hazy, but the way he knew he was supposed to have ten fingers and ten toes, he knew that sort of pain was _not_ supposed to happen.

Taking another limited breath, he shifted his entire body towards the left side of the bed and sat up carefully. Almost immediately, he felt a dull thrumming in his head but ignored it in favor of removing the IV, hands trembling slightly. He licked his lips again as he left the needle and tubing hanging off the drip, eyes following its path to find that the bag was empty. His eyes narrowed and fell to the nightstand behind the stand, relief blooming at seeing three unopened water bottles. He immediately took one and uncapped it, tilted his head back and drank half of it in one gulp, fingers crushing the plastic as he did so. His tongue lapped at the water greedily; he was swallowing in such huge gulps that air bubbles caused complaints in his throat that he ignored until the threat of vomiting overpowered his thirst. Sputtering, the back of the hand holding the cap came to his mouth as he coughed a few times, groaned at the pain ebbing in his side again.

A few drops dribbled down his chin as he paused to take a breath. The cold water moving down his throat felt like it woke him up and when he looked around the room properly, his third natural assumption was that he was in a hospital.

The thin mattress and starchy sheets made sense, the bland ceiling made sense, the IV drip, most of all, made sense. He looked down at himself to see that he was in a plain cotton robe and tried to move the rest of his body, noted that besides his left side, nothing else hurt. His eyes scanned around the room again as he brought the water bottle to his lips, this time taking a smaller sip. The headboard of his simple bed was pressed against the wall, left some space between him and the window that overlapped with the length of the bed by about two feet. The door was to his right; it was closed and next to it was another that was slightly ajar, allowed him to crane his neck to peer in and see that it was a bathroom. His eyes scanned the room again and saw a chair a bit away from his bed, two thin pillows and a blanket draped over the arms. He frowned.

The clock next to his bed indicated that it was about three in the afternoon. A slim remote rested next to it; he picked it up clumsily and aimed it at the flat screen television attached to the wall directly across from his bed and pressed the green button. The television flickered to life but he instantly saw _no signal_ flash across the screen, showing only black and white static and a sort of white noise that made him wince. He turned off the television and frowned, remote returned to where it was.

He chewed on his bottom lip, wondered if it was common for hospital televisions to have no signal.

He took another sip of his water, this time finishing the bottle. Without thinking twice about it, he crushed the bottle, collapsed it as much as possible and capped it and once he let it fall to the bed, he blinked and realized:

_What happened?_

Every moment of consciousness brought to him just another realization of something being _off_. First was the silence; he hadn't thought much of it at first but now it was too strange, especially given what time it was. At three in the afternoon, he wouldn't expect a hospital in—

He froze.

_Where am I?_

A hospital, he thought; he could tell he was in a hospital, so why couldn't he tell which hospital it was? Why couldn't he remember? If it was a standard, legal hospital, why wasn't there a nurse? Swallowing, he continued to look around the room. Flowers and gift baskets lined the walls and he was taken aback by the sheer quantity, furrowed brow counting upwards of eight; who had sent them? His friends? Who were his friends?

His heart felt like it stopped.

_Who am I?_

It felt like he'd been hit square in the chest and for several moments he couldn't breathe and he couldn't move, his mind suspended on a single question usually asked in an existential sense, currently suspended in his mind in the basest, most rudimentary way possible:

_Who am I?_

His name, his identity, his story, his life; he slotted through the various cards of personal information that he somehow knew everyone had to know about themselves, but he didn't know. He rifled through his memories to find there was nothing to sift through; he didn't even know what he looked like, he thought with a start, besides his hands, long, slender fingers and fair skin. Gasping sharply, he swung his legs over the side of his bed; all the precautions he'd taken earlier in making sure he was all right was entirely foregone. His heels slammed onto the floor and he ignored the shooting pain through his legs as he made a beeline for the bathroom, threw the door open and flicked on the lights.

He stared in the mirror and saw someone stare back who he did not recognize in the slightest.

There was tousled brown hair, a little dull and flattened from however long he'd been unconscious—long enough for the IV drip to be depleted, not enough for any significant dehydration or starvation, he thought—and hazel eyes, faint bags lined beneath his bottom lashline that were enunciated by how pallid his skin was. His fingers fluttered over his hair until he felt some sort of fabric; gingerly pushing aside a few strands of hair, he saw bandages wrapped around his head, the pronounced bump of gauze on his right side. It didn't hurt when he pressed it, even when applying pressure, but he thought better than to take it off.

It took a few moments to realize that he didn't know his identity or age, but he did know to be wary of ripping off carefully applied bandages. So he was still able to exercise caution, even when he didn't know what his family name was.

Straightening, he stared at himself in the mirror for a moment longer before undoing the sash keeping his robe closed. It felt oddly perverse to watch him strip himself in the mirror, he thought as he slid the robe off his shoulders, opened it and turned in the mirror to examine himself. He was lean, he thought, with muscles; that was another sign that he hadn't been unconscious for too long because his memory-less brain was able to deduce that with how quickly muscle mass deteriorated, the fact he still had his build was another indication of how he hadn't been unconscious for too long. Craning his neck, he caught sight of a dark mark on his neck; he immediately assumed it to be a bruise but when he saw how concentrated the color was and how it was only a single mark, his cheeks colored, realized it was a very specific kind of mark left through a very specific action that was generally not an accident.

The side that had hurt had dark colors blossoming over his ribs but aside from those and a few other bruises and minor cuts lining his body, he didn't see any significant healing scars or wounds, which seemed like the first piece of good news he'd been able to gather. He gingerly retied the robe and turned on the faucet, cupping his hands beneath the steady stream of water to splash onto his face. Once he'd patted his face dry, he turned off the lights and returned into his room, rubbing the inner corner of an eye.

A sharp glint caught his attention, gaze trailing to a chart hanging off the end of his bed. His breath caught as he hurried towards it, lifting it and opening it without glancing at the cover. Maybe his mind was hazy, but something in this could jog his memory; it didn't seem like such a ludicrous idea once he rationalized it in his mind. Folding the cover over the back, he grasped the file tightly, eyes scanning the characters.

The top of the page had _Tokyo Hospital_ emblazoned in dark print; Tokyo, he thought. Tokyo, Japan.

That was a start. He was in Tokyo, Japan and was reading and understanding Japanese, so he decided to hypothesize that he was Japanese.

A majority of the information flew over his head and he immediately assumed that he wasn't in the medical field. He ignored the scribbles about his platelet count and glucose levels, focused on _moderately bruising and minor lacerations_ , which aligned with his non-medically-trained visual inspection of himself.

_Patient was involved in a vehicular collision while on the passenger side. Prominent bruising of the ribs and other minor swelling, bruises, and lacerations. Minor internal bleeding noted upon arrival, but appears to have resolved on its own, tests pending. Patient was unconscious upon arrival, but continues to slip in and out of unconsciousness. Each time patient wakes, appears to be disoriented and confused. Has remained unconscious since early this afternoon. Nurse to change IV drip every twelve hours._

He blinked. He glanced towards the top of the page to find the date and hurried back to the clock, squinting. _Two days_ he thought and looked down again, finger tracing over the paper until he found the date of admittance and nodded with a sigh. _Five days_. He was admitted five days ago, slipped in and out of consciousness for three days, and remained unconscious starting two days ago.

He breathed. Having a timeline helped.

Looking back to the chart, the remainder was immunoglobulin test results and medical jargon he didn't understand. Frowning, he closed the file and then his eyes landed to a card held behind plastic and blinked.

_Oikawa Tooru._

"Oikawa Tooru," he mouthed and licked his lips. He cleared his throat. "Oikawa Tooru," he repeated as a whisper and looked up at a wall, brow furrowing. "…Oikawa Tooru."

It didn't feel familiar, but it didn't feel foreign; staring at the three characters left unattached cogs spinning in his mind. Oikawa replaced it on the edge of the bed with a painful swallow, turned to the flowers that lined the wall. His hands shook as he approached and sifted through gently wilting leaves and petals dried only at the very tips, collecting all the cards he could find. The baskets had been opened, he noted with a small frown and looked around the room for evidence that someone had been here at some point.

In total he found nine cards (there were more than eight arrangements and baskets, he thought as he found some smaller ones hidden behind) and he sifted through them, eyes scanning Japanese, _Oikawa-san_ the greeting in almost all of them, _Tooru_ on one signed with _nee-san_. It wasn't until the last card that he had to pause; he didn't think twice about it because he'd seen _Tooru_ before, but it was the fact that his eyes weren't looking at hiragana and kanji, it was that they were looking at _Spanish_ and he was still understanding the message.

_Tooru, we're wishing you a speedy recovery and waiting for your return to San Juan!_

His chart had indicated that he was Japanese and when he tried to remember if he'd taken Spanish or ever went abroad, he realized, once again, he had absolutely no memories. His brow knit as he stared at the card, read the simple message over and over again. Swallowing thickly, he shook his head and dropped the card back onto the bed, sinking to his knees onto the floor and holding his head. The more he knew the less it made sense because who was waiting for him in San Juan and why? His nails sank into his scalp, anchored his trembling arms until a sudden flash of heat surge through his body caused his head to lift, the rush of cool air hardly helping. He lowered his hands, pressed one palm to the bed and other to his chest to feel his racing hard.

Hobbling over to the nightstand, he picked up another bottle of water and managed to uncap it, taking a sip with his brow knit. The flush in his cheeks remained but he felt the burn in his chest ebb. Licking his lips as he swallowed, he exhaled a thin stream of breath; the hand on his chest remained where it was and he relaxed only when he could feel his heart rate begin to subside. He recapped the bottle and set it down on the nightstand, then looked up and stared at the door.

The logical choice, he knew, was to go outside. He stood dumbfounded for a few moments and wondered why he was still in this tiny little room that offered no answers, but he was nearly at the door when he realized:

It was still silent.

It was _still_ silent, he amended; any sounds he heard had been through his own movements. He didn't hear any sort of beeping or announcements, as he'd expect in a hospital in Tokyo, especially given it was in the afternoon. He didn't hear any murmurs or footsteps outside and realizing that sent a chill straight down his sternum and into his stomach.

"…Hello?" he called out tentatively. His voice didn't sound familiar but he felt the vibrations in his throat, logically knew it was definitely _him_ producing that sound and just had to accept it. Taking a step forward, he pressed a hand against the door and leaned forward, gingerly touching his door, just above the floorplan held behind plastic. "H-hello? Is there anyone…"

There was a groan and he immediately jolted, stumbled back and fell onto his ass. As he stared at the door, he heard it again, that deep, guttural groan that sounded like a product someone's voice but with a decidedly inhumane quality. The way the pitch descended in a slide felt jagged, transition perforated with creaks and Oikawa froze when he heard scratching near the hinge of the door. Shaking eyes focused on the door handle and he scrambled back; he kept waiting for it to jiggle and for the door to fly open, but the scratching stopped in the middle of the door.

Through the adrenaline that flushed his cheeks and left his limbs feeling lighter than air, Oikawa still found himself just staring and waiting; he couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Whatever was out there knew he was in here; he was making no move to stop it, but something had stopped them from approaching.

He couldn't help his curiosity and navigated onto his hands and knees. Crawling slowly, he took a moment to bow his head and try to see out the space beneath the door; he didn't see any feet or knees no matter how he craned his head and pushed himself up, proceeded slowly. His hand came to a rest on the silver handle and he closed his eyes. Oikawa's brow knit and he counted backwards from three, forced a surge of inspiration and turned the handle, pushed down so hard and suddenly that a part of him feared the handle was going to break off.

The grunting continued but nothing was fighting the doorknob and so he opened the door slowly.

At first, he saw metal. He blinked but by the time he realized it was a cabinet of some sort, his attention was diverted to the rotten, decayed hand that just barely managed to lightly scratch against his chest. Oikawa yelped, _loudly_ , and fell backwards again, eyes wide as he followed the fingers to the hand to the elbow to the shoulder to the neck, then ultimately to a face that was that of a human but absolutely not a live one.

He wasn't sure if his name was really Oikawa Tooru and didn't know anything about himself, but he _did_ know that his own face was what he'd expect of a human: colored irises surrounding black pupil and veins that were only faintly visible if he focused enough. That thing, that _thing_ that had been scratching at his door wasn't alive. Its arm looked like it was diseased, scratched up and bloodied, dark bruises and veins prominent. The rest of its body looked emaciated and Oikawa saw some sort of a horrible wound on the crook of its neck, like something had taken a bite of it, even saw flashes of white as it squirmed. Dried blood stained a uniform he could only assume had been white, numbly wondered if this had been a nurse.

Its hair was disheveled; he didn't want to know if it was matted and clumped with blood or with something else. Its cheeks were sunken in and hollow, veins so dark they almost appeared black. But it was the eyes that startled him; they were so wide and he'd thought they were rolled back first but when he looked again, saw irises so light they bordered on grey-blue and absolutely no pupils.

It lunged at him again but Oikawa heard its body just collide with the shelf blocking his door. He scrambled to his feet and slammed the door shut, tried desperately to find a lock. When he realized there wasn't one—remembered, again, he was in a hospital room—he hurried back to grab one of the chairs and wedged it beneath the handle to block it from being opened. The scratching and grunting continued and he clapped his hands over his mouth to keep from making another sound as he backed away, all the way until his knees hit the back of the bed and he wordlessly sat down.

He had no idea what on earth that was and was willing to bet it had nothing to do with his apparent amnesia.

Oikawa's hands pressed so tightly over his nose and mouth that he found it hard to breathe, but didn't dare let go until the thing seemed to have given up. He heard dragged steps slowly recede and only lowered his hands after several moments of eerie silence turned blissful. Swallowing thickly, he allowed himself another few seconds before forcing his eyes open and staring at the pristinely clean ground. He curled his toes against the cool VCT and pitched forward, leaned his weight against the balls of his feet as he exhaled slowly. Lowering his feet until his heels touched to the ground as well, Oikawa's elbows pressed to his knees, palms together and forehead against his thumbs.

"…This is a dream," he whispered to himself. "This is a dream. This is a dream, I'll wake up and… and I'll know who I am and what the _hell_ this is."

His hands were clasped in a prayer before he realized it. Straightening, he looked around the room tiredly again and focused on the window. He took one last look at the door; given the thing kept throwing itself against the shelf but it wouldn't move, he thought that it had to be stuck to some degree and if it was keeping that grotesque creature from being able to get closer to him, he was in no mood to try and dislodge it himself.

Oikawa stood and made his way over to the window. From the bed, his view out the window was only some distant windows and a blue sky, sparsely decorated with clouds. As he approached, he kept his gaze at eye level and when he saw rooms across the courtyard, it aligned with what he'd seen as the floorplan. The building was U-shaped; hugged a courtyard of sorts. He moved to open the window to try and see if there was anyone in the adjacent rooms.

But he'd just clicked the latch when he caught sight of what was below him.

There were too many to count and, though he was on the fourth floor, a guess based on the windows he could see and count, he was able to discern that they were definitely not human. Their hair was too matted, just like what was outside of his door, and they dragged their feet, limping around. Some of their legs looked like they'd been twisted around and yet they were still able to walk; Oikawa's stomach churned and he stumbled back, hands shaking and feeling heat coursing through his body again.

He balanced carefully before forcing himself forward again, swallowing and keeping a bit of distance from the window. He craned his neck to look downwards again; they didn't move very quickly, but there were _so many of them_. He saw some bodies lying motionless on the ground; he forced his eyes back upwards and noticed that some of the windows across the courtyard were cracked and bloodied, slats in a disarray and cracked. The windows that he was able to peer into appeared definitively empty; he tried to stop his heart from sinking, but every blank window he saw left him feeling even more alone when he'd woken up with nobody at all. He bit his lip and returned to his bed.

He didn't know what to do, so he laughed.

He laughed. He couldn't help but laugh as he laid back down, sound breathy and desperate. "This is a dream," he whispered and shook his head, pressing the heels of his palm back into his eyes, a maniacal grin curling his lips. "This… this has to be a dream. This is a dream, this is a dream, I… this is just one of those realistic dreams people in comas have, I'm fine, I didn't wake up as the only person in the world after an apocalypse, this—this is a dream. Yeah. Yeah, this is a dream."

He swallowed and let his hands fall, forced his body to relax.

"…This is a dream."

* * *

If it was a dream, he woke up in the same one.

Oikawa's eyes opened again and this time his vision cleared almost immediately, the same white metal grid and panels. It took just a moment but when the afternoon flooded back into his mind he groaned, hands immediately coming to his face; it was late, he knew, even before forcing himself up to check the clock. It was too dark to see clearly and he immediately reached out a hand to turn on the lamp, illuminating the clock to show that it was ten at night. He pressed his lips into a thin line; his expression remained still as he felt panic welling in his chest, a heavy reality causing his shoulders to round to realize this wasn't a dream.

He hung his head and grasped the edge of his bed, locked arms trembling. He heard shuffling outside his door; immediately, he darted out his hand to turn off the lamp and fold his legs onto the bed, just in case _whatever_ was outside tried to peer under his door. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths he tried to keep quiet until the shuffling receded, but the anxiety spurring his movements didn't lessen. He was out of bed almost immediately, nearly fell to his knees in front of the gift baskets because this wasn't a dream and his stomach, after waking up a second time, felt like that of someone who had been unconscious for two days.

There were bananas with specks of brown and apples and oranges. One of the other baskets seemed to have an assortment of chocolates; some of the packages were missing, most notably one that he assumed had chocolate covered strawberries, but he was glad to find dark chocolate. Oikawa gathered everything he could and laid it on his bed, arms still trembling. His eyes flicked to the nightstand to the two water bottles and took the full one to toss onto the bed as well; turning, he headed over to the table, peered over it to find a paper bag in the corner. He leaned down without thinking; the action caused an ache in his side and he swore, winced and repeated the movement slowly, long fingers teasing the twine handles into his grip as he straightened.

He looked inside to find a couple of books and granola bars. Scowling, he headed back to his bed and dumped everything onto the bed and picked up a book. Rifling through both of them, he was disappointed to find nothing; one was a historical fiction novel and the other was an autobiography. If he wasn't shaking from a mix of adrenaline and hunger, he'd probably take a moment to leaf through the first but unless he was desperate enough to eat paper, it currently served no use to him.

Leaning his palms against the railing, he stared at the contents splayed over the white sheets, numbly thought that this wasn't nearly enough to sustain him. Based on his build and his height, he'd need to eat something much more substantial than this and once he thought that, he wanted to laugh because he apparently didn't know anything about himself but still had deductive capabilities regarding his nutritional and sustenance needs. His stomach grumbled and he swore quietly, hanging his head. His fingers drummed against the railing, unable to help deep breaths that brought twinges of pain racking his frame.

He tried to remain calm, but it was impossible to bay the way his heart was racing and his skin was prickling, numbness spreading through his body. Those creatures were outside his door _and_ window, so even if he survived a three story fall, he'd have to outrun all of them. If he rationed the food, he could get maybe two or three days' worth, but he only had one and a half bottles of water.

His mind continued to spin, but the cogs weren't connected to anything and it felt like they weren't even connected to each _other_. His name was Oikawa Tooru and he was in some sort of an accident that left him in Tokyo Hospital in a room full of flowers and cards in two languages; someone had started eating his gift baskets but they were gone—was it someone he knew, or did someone just sneak in, eat his food, and then leave? Whatever blocked his door kept that _thing_ outside, but it kept _him_ inside; he had a window, but even if he survived a three story fall well enough to run, where did he go and how did he outrun all of those _things?_

What _were_ those things?

The world began to close in on him rapidly and he stumbled until his shoulder hit the window, didn't even care if anything heard him. He felt tears spring to his eyes and wet his palms and forced them away, stared at the loose sheet that he'd woken up under. He heard scratching at his door again but didn't even flinch; his eyes suddenly just focused on the sheet and nothing else and the way he stepped towards it seemed robotic. His fingers clenched around the fabric and jerked; the supplies he'd collected flew onto the ground but he didn't spare them a glance and just stepped onto the bed in one swift motion, felt mattress confirm to his feet and frame shift beneath his concentrated weight.

He stared at the sheet in his hands for several moments. The hissing outside his door continued, but he only focused on twisting the sheet into one long rope and only when he tied the noose did his hands tremble, breath hitching. He took a step back on his bed and shook his head; he dropped the sheet and brought his hands over his face again, shoulders rounding.

There came a bang; Oikawa nearly fell off the bed when he jolted and stared at the door, feeling his face pale. Another bang sounded, like a palm incapable of pain slapping itself as hard as possible against the surface. Oikawa swore again and shook his head, digging his fingers into his hair and sinking down onto his knees. He leaned forward until his elbows dug uncomfortably into the metal railing.

He didn't want to die. He didn't want to, especially not like this, but he didn't know who he was and why he was here, he didn't know where to go and who to look for. He didn't know anything beyond the walls of this tiny hospital room with just a few pieces of fruit and chocolates to sustain himself on. He didn't know a way out of here that wouldn't end in imminent death; he didn't know if there _was_ anyone out there and if there was any reason left to try and fight. He didn't know anything; all he knew was that he didn't want to die, but it seemed like there was absolutely nothing for him to do and his choices were to end everything by his own hand, wait for his body to break down, or let one of _those_ things get to him.

The television had no signal and he couldn't find any sort of a phone or other way to communicate. He knew things but he didn't _know_ anything; he was left a physical shell of whoever he once was in the middle of a world where everything was gone and if there was nothing left, he wondered what really was the point of staying alive.

Shaking, he reached over to pick up the sheet again and bring himself to his feet, swallowing as he twisted it. This time, he looked up and pushed the panels up enough to slip the makeshift rope through, trying to even his shaking hands as much as he could to tie a knot. He glanced up again; he didn't even know if the metal paneling would be able to hold his weight but it was either this or slowly starving to death over the next several days.

He didn't want to die, he thought, he didn't, he really, really didn't, but he didn't know how he was supposed to live like this.

Taking a deep breath he stepped forward, entire body shaking horribly and tears lining his lower lashline as he steadfastly kept his gaze focused on the wall directly opposite of him. His chin hadn't even touched the bunched sheet when a sudden red dot appeared on the wall right across from him and Oikawa yelped, falling backwards, bounced slightly from impact. His eyes grew wide as he stared at the laser moving rapidly left and right; his eyes followed for a few moments before realizing it was saying _no,_ like someone shaking their head. He blinked and stared at it then his noose and tensed.

_Did someone see me?_

Scrambling to his feet, Oikawa rushed to the window, palms pressed to the glass. He followed the laser to its source; the light shining right in his eye blinded him for a moment and he squinted but once it turned off, he could just barely make out a person in a room across the courtyard, standing with a closed fist against the window.

A person.

_A person._

They were too far for him to make out any details but when he saw the way they waved a hand, he immediately knew they weren't one of those creatures; the movement was deliberate and quick, not at all like dragged feet and unrestrained banging. He held his own hand up and waved desperately, slammed his palm against the window again and nearly pressed his face up to the glass as well. His breath fogged the glass and he pulled back only so he could wipe away the condensation as he waved again, leaned forward onto the balls of his feet. The other nodded; Oikawa's breath hitched when they bent down and he instinctively banged the window again. "N-no, wait—"

The reappeared after just a moment and he relaxed, a heavy sigh of relief parted his lips. They tapped at the window and Oikawa just stared as they opened it, set something onto the ledge. They finagled with it for another moment before stepping back and Oikawa just stared in disbelief as it approached him. It had crossed over half the distance before Oikawa realized it was a drone, propellers whirring and body growing larger, a zipped lunch bag attached to one of its feet. He was so preoccupied with staring at it that he barely remembered to open his window in time, fumbling with the latch and sliding the panel just in time to receive the device with shaking hands.

The propellers had slowed and he started to bring it towards him, but a sudden twitch startled him and before he could help himself, he dropped it on the ground, wincing. He froze and stared at the door; through some sheer stroke of luck, the sound hadn't seemed to attract any attention and he dropped to his knees. The propellers were broken but he ignored them in favor of opening the attached bag. It was filled with a few bottles of water and protein bars but what his eyes focused on was the walkie talkie. Oikawa grabbed it, held it with both hands as he pressed the button and brought it to his lips. "H-hello—"

" _You fucking dumbass!"_

Oikawa jolted and fell back, gaping at the device. _"What the hell?!_ Are you fucking insane?! What the hell do you think you're doing? I look over and you're about to—"

He craned his neck to see the other at the window, one hand grasping the sill and other holding the walkie talkie, head bowed as they abruptly cut off and shook their head. "What were you thinking?!" they snapped and Oikawa flinched, felt humiliation wash over him.

"I-I'm sorry," Oikawa stammered, felt tears springing to his eyes and sank back down, only the crown of his head visible over the sill as he stared at the drone. "I-I don't know, I woke up, th-there's—"

His voice was shaking and before he realized it, tears were rolling down his cheeks and he couldn't help but sniffle before he thought to release the button, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. He heard the crackle over the walkie talkie and the other hesitate; when he spoke again his voice was gentler but still gruff and Oikawa took another moment, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry," he heard, "I shouldn't have yelled like that, it's… it's a lot to wake up to."

"I don't know anything," Oikawa rambled, grip so tight he heard plastic squeak beneath his grasp. He was so relieved to be speaking to someone, to hear his own voice and to hear theirs that he couldn't help but spill everything at once. "I woke up and—and I didn't even know my name, I don't—I know Spanish? Apparently? I—"

"Wait," he heard, "what? You don't know your name?"

Oikawa's breath caught. He blinked a few times and tensed. Immediately, he leaned forward on his knees, ignored the pain of them digging into the hard floor. "W-wait, don't leave—"

"I'm not," the reply came almost immediately and Oikawa gave a sigh of relief, collapsing against the wall. "Don't worry, I'm—" they paused and Oikawa stared at the device like it was all that kept him alive and sane. "...W-what do you mean you don't know your own name?"

Oikawa bit his lip. He was clinging onto the walkie talkie like it was his only lifeline; his thumb was off the button but he held it to his chest, heart racing. Even without knowing what had happened, he knew enough that someone like him, someone who had more questions than answers wasn't the sort of person a stranger would want to be with during what seemed like an apocalyptic scenario. He closed his eyes and barely managed to stifle a sob behind his hand, heard the voice again, gentler still. "Hey, are you there? Talk to me."

Sniffling one last time and clearing his throat, he wiped away his tears before bringing the walkie talkie to his mouth again, pressing the button. "Y-yeah, sorry," he said. "I'm… I'm scared. I woke up alone, thinking I was the only person and you saved my life, p-please don't leave. I know I can only be a burden but you're all I h-have."

Maybe it was the lack of memories and lack of personality and, by extension, lack of pride. Or maybe it was because just something about this person was so relaxing; the sound of their voice and the image of them across the courtyard was the first time Oikawa felt like he could relax even though he technically didn't know them, didn't know if he could trust them. On one hand, he had no choice to; he'd been about to take his own life just minutes ago because he felt that hopeless.

On the other hand, just something about this person seemed innately trustworthy.

"I promise I won't," he heard and even though it was a stranger's voice, he couldn't help but relax, exhale a sigh of relief. "Just… just tell me what happened. What you do know, if anything."

"…My name is Oikawa Tooru," he said after a pause. "I know that because of the medical charts. I was in… in an accident and woke up after being unconscious for two days. That's… that's all. That's all I could find out. I tried to go outside but something's blocking my door and there's…"

His voice trailed off, brow knitting as he remembered the decayed arm. Oikawa brought a hand up, brushed where it had scratched and shuddered.

"A zombie," the other finished and Oikawa stared at the walkie talkie. He blinked several times and then moved onto his knees to look out his window, saw the person still standing there, hip cocked against the windowsill. "…They're zombies," he repeated. "They're in the courtyard too. I'd close your window. We're on the fourth floor so I doubt they can get up here if they hear you, but just in case."

Oikawa faltered but gave a nod and stood, slid the panel until the metal edge met the wall and locked it shut. "Thank you," he said after a moment and looked back at the bag. "I…"

He paused again and rubbed his eyes. "…I'm sorry, this is just taking a minute to…"

"It's fine," the voice replied. It sounded different; he sounded tired, but Oikawa wasn't sure if it was just because it was night or it was the distortion of the walkie talkie. There was a lengthier pause but before Oikawa could react, he heard the crackle again and a sigh. "You said you were unconscious for two days, right? That's when it happened. The days leading up to it, the news were reporting about attacks here and there, mostly of rabid rats biting bigger animals. But then a human was bit and it seems to spread insanely quickly… once you're bit, you die and you become one of them. All I could find out before television and internet cut out was that it spreads through the blood and saliva. How are you feeling? Physically, I mean."

Oikawa took a moment to respond; his mind was still reeling but he cleared his throat. "F-fine," he said. "I'm fine."

"Really?" the other sounded surprised. "You're not in pain? At all? You were in an accident, weren't you?"

His ribs hurt like a bitch, but Oikawa didn't want to be more of an inconvenience. He shook his head and made sure to move slowly so that he didn't accidentally wince. "I'm fine," he reassured. "I just… I'd like to get out of here. Thank you for the food and water, but I don't think I can spend too much longer in this room."

"Yeah," he heard after another pause and closed his eyes in relief. "A cabinet or something fell over and it's wedged itself, so that's what's blocking your door and protecting you. The air vents should be fine, though. Tomorrow I'll go to you and get you out."

"Air vents?" Oikawa echoed. "You're sure?"

"I work in this hospital," the answer came and Oikawa formed an _o_ with his mouth and nodded, "so yeah, I know the layout pretty well. If the food I sent over isn't enough, let me know."

"It should be, thank you," Oikawa answered, rubbing his nose. His eyes lingered on the protein bars and immediately his stomach rumbled again. "I have some fruits and chocolates. So tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it's pretty late now," the other said, but Oikawa heard a pause. "...Unless there's a specific reason you don't feel safe. I can come over tonight if that's the case."

"N-no," he rushed, feeling his cheeks flush, "I'm fine, I don't want to rush you. Tomorrow's fine. Thank you again, really, you… you saved my life. I know it's late, but can I ask one more thing?"

"Of course."

Oikawa blinked. "…Can I know your name?"

He wasn't sure if he imagined the sharp intake or if it was because of the walkie talkie's static. He heard the other clear his throat before answering, "Iwaizumi."

A pause. "Iwaizumi Hajime."

 _Iwaizumi_ , Oikawa thought, wondered why that name felt more familiar than his own.

"Iwaizumi-san," he said with a faint smile. "Thank you again, really. I won't keep you so… I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

There was an embarrassing, high school naivety quality to the way his voice raised at the end and Oikawa hoped the crackling was able to hide it. He heard Iwaizumi answer _yeah_ before he released the button on the walkie talkie. He pitched forward onto his knees to pick up the bag; he didn't want to close the blinds but couldn't help but sneak a glance out the window and when he saw Iwaizumi still standing in the same position and looking at him, he hoped it was too dark for his blush to show. Iwaizumi just gave a nod before he turned and Oikawa blinked a few more times before returning to his bed, setting the bag onto the mattress and carefully leaving the walkie talkie on his nightstand. He then collected all the food that he'd flung off when grabbing the sheet, pulled the sheet down from the ceiling and sat with his back to the headboard.

His stomach had growled, but he didn't realize how hungry he was until he sat and was still so lightheaded and quivering. He ate one of the protein bars Iwaizumi sent; just the first bite already helped him to feel better and he closed his eyes, felt his shoulders relax. Without thinking twice about it, he reached for the walkie talkie with a free hand and held it in his lap. He took another bite of the bar as he stared at the blue and black casing. His thumb traced over the screen that ebbed softly; he turned it over in his hands until he saw a battery panel and laminated sticker, _Tokyo Hospital Security_ printed neatly and blinked several times.

"Resourceful…" he noted, swallowed and took a third bite.

Just holding this calmed him down; when he caught himself thinking _I'm touching something Iwaizumi touched_ he almost wanted to turn around and bury his face in the pillow because at the age of twenty five (as per his medical chart), he had regressed two too many times to a high school student's mentality in the span of an hour. As far as he was concerned, this walkie talkie was the only solid evidence that the conversation he had wasn't a hallucination; it was real and somebody else was out there, had literally saved his life when he was about to take a step he could never backtrack. When he turned it over again, he pressed the button before he could think not to and almost immediately, Iwaizumi's voice sounded. "Are you okay?"

Oikawa jumped. His face lit like a wildfire; how was he supposed to say that he was fine, he'd just gotten lonely and was so relieved for Iwaizumi that he wanted to hear his voice?

"I… um… I-I'm fine," Oikawa stammered. "I… I just…"

His voice trailed off and now, more than ever, Oikawa wished he had some memories, if only so he could think of a single topic of conversation. The dead air was tantalizing; it felt just as heavy as what he'd woken up to, so when Iwaizumi interrupted it, Oikawa gave a sigh of relief that he didn't even think to mute himself for.

"Do you wanna talk about zombie stuff and logistics or… just stupid stuff?"

Oikawa couldn't help but smile as he settled against the headboard again, one leg folded and the other knee propped. "Stupid stuff," he said easily, taking another bite.

Iwaizumi hummed. There was a pause but Oikawa could hear rustling in the background, wondered if Iwaizumi was also in a hospital room or if he was somewhere else. "Mm… do you know the Loch Ness monster? And Godzilla?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Oikawa answered and heard Iwaizumi's breathy laugh. "The memory thing is strange… I don't remember any personal memories but things like that, I seem to know."

"Huh, that is weird. All right, then let's test what you know," Iwaizumi answered. "Which would win in a fight?"

Oikawa had finished the protein bar. He left the wrapper on the nightstand and reached for a banana instead, held it with a hand and used his teeth to unpeel it because he was _that_ stubborn in not letting go of the button that kept communications open between him and Iwaizumi. "Loch Ness, no?" he answered easily. "Knock Godzilla into the water and he's toast."

He heard a laugh and had to pause because that sound instantly went into pumping palpitations into an already racing heart.

"How're you going to knock Godzilla into the water? You know he's huge, right?"

"We live on an island," Oikawa answered, tilting his head. "It's not as if the Loch Ness monster can come onto land so if they were to fight, wouldn't Godzilla have to go to him?"

"You think _monsters_ would think to limit themselves geographically? And who said this fight was taking place in Tokyo?" Iwaizumi replied and Oikawa couldn't help his soft laugh.

"So Godzilla is in Scotland now?" he replied. "How did that happen? I don't think he'd fit in first class."

"Are you body shaming Godzilla?" Iwaizumi asked and Oikawa's lips quirked because he swore he heard a hint of insult.

Oikawa laughed again. His ribs still hurt if he moved too quickly or breathed too deeply; he still knew nothing beyond his name; a zombie still lingered outside his door and more lined the courtyard; the world as he knew it was gone in more than one regard but sitting here with a crackling walkie talkie and a stranger on the other end, he couldn't help but feel that he was right where he was supposed to be.

"I'm not body shaming," he rebutted. "I'm stating facts. Isn't he over a hundred meters tall? Even Godzilla has a weakness, doesn't he?"

A pause and Oikawa smiled, wondered if he'd won. He felt his smile fade after another moment; something had shifted in the tone of their conversation, he thought, Iwaizumi's pause was a moment too long and Oikawa was left feeling like he'd said something wrong but couldn't for the life of him figure out what, how, and why.

He was about to preemptively apologize when Iwaizumi spoke again, voice even but quieter than before and Oikawa tilted his head, brow knit and wondering why his heart felt like it was breaking for a stranger who'd told him absolutely nothing personal beyond his name.

"...Guess so. Everyone's got a weakness."


	2. twenty years waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tomorrow, he’d face his heartbreak. tonight, he would just be iwaizumi talking to oikawa, look out the window at the twinkling stars, arguing over monsters through walkie talkies, just like when they were six.

Iwaizumi had proposed to Oikawa right before the accident.

Considering they'd been T-boned by a careless, texting driver who hadn't seen the yellow flick to red, their injuries could have been worse. They'd been hit on Oikawa's side and, because deployed airbags caught Iwaizumi in a harsh embrace, he'd wound up with just some heavy bruising, slight cuts from broken glass, and a concussion. He remembered his eyes blearily managing to open, his last memory the sight of Oikawa whose expression was so peaceful that if it wasn't for the blood dripping down his face, he would've thought that he was just asleep. Iwaizumi's last motion was weakly reaching out for him, _Tooru_ mouthed to only partial completion before his consciousness slipped to black.

Iwaizumi had proposed to Oikawa right before the accident.

He woke up to an IV in his arm and white sheets cradling him. He sensed Matsukawa's shadow move and hover over him as he asked if he was all right, though it took several iterations of the questions for Iwaizumi to finally hear him, eyes squinting in an attempt to focus. The ringing in his ears began to subside after several seconds, a final breath bringing with it clarity and immediately his mind shifted to Oikawa. Matsukawa seemed to have sensed this because Iwaizumi hadn't even sat up forty five degrees when Matsukawa forced him back down, then promptly sat on him and calmly called for a nurse.

_"Get off me, Matsukawa! Where's Oikawa?! Is he—"_

_"He's in the next room with Hanamaki. I'm pretty sure I'm not sitting on where you're hurt, but let me know."_

He'd fought being taken to tests until they wheeled him into Oikawa's room first and his heart had dropped, hand hovering over Oikawa's loose fist as if afraid to touch him. When he worked up the nerve, a deep sigh shifted his frame to feel that his skin was warm and the _Tooru_ he'd never finished emptied his lungs of any remaining breath. On the way to his MRI, the nurse had informed him that Oikawa was fine; he sustained a few more injuries, being on the side of impact, but, as he'd hear over and over, it could have been worse. From what they knew so far, his ribs were bruised, he had a concussion, and then some other bruising and lacerations. What they were concerned about was his confusion and disorientation when slipping in and out of consciousness but, she was quick to add, that also wasn't too out of the ordinary.

Iwaizumi sat through the myriad of tests, bit his lip to keep from snapping _I told you_ when the doctor told him he was fine and ready to be released, to take ibuprofen or acetaminophen if his soreness was too much but that he wouldn't need anything stronger. His bruises would heal, his cuts were all relatively minor, there were no expected long-term effects from his concussion but if anything was off, he was to contact him immediately. Iwaizumi bobbed his head impatiently to all of this and when the doctor stared, Matsukawa offered that Iwaizumi was fine, he was just worried about Oikawa. He scrawled his name impatiently across release papers and then he changed into clothes that Matsukawa had brought him (he asked how he got into his apartment, he answered he had his ways, which Iwaizumi made a note to question further later) and promptly went next door, pulled up a chair, and began to wait.

Iwaizumi had proposed to Oikawa right before the accident.

Oikawa was still unconscious. Iwaizumi had woken up a day after the accident and spent the next two at Oikawa's side, left only if he absolutely had to and with his friends' words that at least one of them would be with him at all times. Iwaizumi returned to his apartment just to shower and bring some things; he'd packed a UCI sweater that they continuously stole from each other along with some jeans and shoes into his backpack, assuming Oikawa wouldn't want to wear what he had been during the accident (which, actually, was a UCI hoodie that he'd stolen from Iwaizumi's closet.)

Oikawa's apartment in Argentina had much more UCI gear than anyone would expect from someone who didn't attend the school.

He packed two books that Oikawa had mentioned over one of their video calls and Iwaizumi picked up for him to read on his flight back. He brought these and a few granola bars into a paper bag from when they'd gotten take-out from Oikawa's favorite restaurant one night and returned to the hospital, steps hurried when he left his apartment and very nearly speed walking by the time he was back at Oikawa's room.

Iwaizumi idly watched the television with Hanamaki most of the day and Matsukawa came by as soon as he was off work. He left the channel on the news but hardly paid it any attention, remembered seeing _mysterious infection_ go from a short headline that scrolled along the bottom of the screen to what the anchors kept talking about. Hanamaki murmured this seemed like it could be something big and Iwaizumi shrugged weakly, mumbled _there're no rats in the hospital, we're fine._ He wasn't even sure how much time passed until a nurse came by to say that visiting hours were over. Iwaizumi was ready to fight to stay and she smiled, said that he was fine, but Hanamaki would have to leave.

Hanamaki shook his head with a breathless laugh. _"All right, can't fight that. I'll see you tomorrow, Iwaizumi. Text me if you need anything."_

And it was when both his friends were gone and he'd turned the television off, when he curled himself up in the chair with a blanket and several extra pillows that Iwaizumi had nothing left to do but think about how he had proposed to Oikawa right before the accident.

It had been a casual conversation where they were just talking about nothing in particular, and Iwaizumi tried to not think about how Oikawa's flight back to Argentina was the next evening. Oikawa usually tried to visit for at least a week but this time his schedule had been more hectic; he flew in the night before his sister's birthday and spent the remaining three he had with Iwaizumi. Oikawa's trips back to Japan were rare but when they happened and they had time, the two would take a day to make a trip to Hakone. Iwaizumi enjoyed hiking there and Oikawa enjoyed the hot springs and one particular dessert shop, said he missed sweets almost as much as he missed Iwaizumi when he was abroad.

Iwaizumi had snapped at him to shut up, blush evident on his cheeks but took Oikawa's hand with one of his own anyway.

They had started dating a year after graduating high school, when Oikawa's visit home one night had ended with them kissing on the couch and ignoring the movie they'd both held off on watching for four months just so they could see it together. It felt such a natural progression and they only broke apart when Oikawa's sister walked in on them, though she laughed, said _about time_ and turned around to promptly leave. As soon as the door closed, Iwaizumi had barely looked over when Oikawa pounced on him again, movie all but forgotten.

Iwaizumi felt ridiculous for spending years wondering if he should tell Oikawa how he felt because as they were on that couch, he could only think about how it had taken them this long to do what felt so natural. He mumbled _should've done this sooner_ the first chance he had, each other's pants hot on their lips and Oikawa laughed breathlessly.

_"You think waiting made it better, though?"_

Iwaizumi growled and pulled him in for another kiss.

_"Yeah, but would've rather been able to start making out with you way earlier."_

Japan and Argentina had a time difference of twelve hours and a highlight of Iwaizumi's time in California was that the difference was only five hours. It lasted only a few years, though, because he moved back to Japan, but no matter how many hours were between them, they seldom missed promised video calls and chatted or called so often that Iwaizumi ended up picking up a part-time job just to deal with the overages on his phone bill.

(Oikawa found this out and tricked Iwaizumi into letting him pay for his phone bill; he'd said that it would be cheaper for the two of them to bundle and Iwaizumi could just send him his portion. He'd agreed and Oikawa charged him only the basic plan fees, used all his sponsorship money to pay the rest because his devilish good looks were, literally, paying off.)

It was difficult. That year of being friends had been difficult, shifting to having to rely on calling and texting after eighteen years of growing up within five minutes of each other. But when they started dating it had become even harder and the few times they'd see each other felt even shorter. Iwaizumi's college friends in Irvine knew he was dating someone and he was glad they never tried to press him for details. Oikawa had started to make a name for himself; being a sports science student, even his friends who didn't pay that much attention to volleyball heard about the Japanese player who had made it onto CA San Juan's starting line up as their setter. When they brought him up, Iwaizumi eventually admitted that he was dating him and was grateful that they weren't the gossiping type because Iwaizumi just wanted to focus on his studies, not on avoiding the infamous American paparazzi.

Oikawa, being Oikawa, often was the subject of tabloids and rumors; the first few times this happened, Iwaizumi's friends would carefully broach it to him and when Iwaizumi consistently shrugged it off, they eventually stopped. Iwaizumi trusted him, he'd tell them. He'd been trusting him with everything for eighteen years and he'd trust him with everything for the rest of his life.

_"Iwa-chan, did you see? Now they think I'm dating Shoyo-kun."_

_"Yeah," Iwaizumi smirked. He had his phone propped up against a pile of books, a new phone stand arriving in a few days because he'd broken his old one after one too many shots during a drinking game with Oikawa. His eyes were trained on his computer and notebook as he was drafting a lab report, but he assured Oikawa that he was able to do that and talk to him at the same time. "Like you're even in his league."_

_He looked over in time to see Oikawa whine, lying in bed and hugging a ridiculously large alien plushie Iwaizumi had spent far too much money on to express ship to him. He rolled over onto his side and Iwaizumi couldn't help but soften his glare because something about Oikawa just peering at him with his cheek pressed into the pillow, alien plush head tucked under his chin was annoyingly endearing. "That's mean, Iwa-chan!"_

_Iwaizumi smirked, went back to color coding his charts to illustrate the results._

_"It's true."_

Iwaizumi had asked if it bothered Oikawa that he wanted to keep their relationship lowkey while he was in school. Oikawa wasn't shy about flashing the ring Iwaizumi had given him, whether it was on his finger or around his neck, but he had also remained tightlipped about his name; playful, teasing Oikawa hadn't ever dropped a single hint, which was why rumors about him were so wild and Iwaizumi worried that he was secretly irked by it. Oikawa reassured him that he didn't mind at all, he sort of liked the attention because it definitely boosted his popularity, but then asked if Iwaizumi minded all the rumors.

Iwaizumi scoffed, said that Oikawa wasn't as big a celebrity as he thought, but then added quietly he appreciated Oikawa making it clear he was in a relationship but not naming _him_ specifically. Iwaizumi was proud to be with him, but he'd seen the way rumors spread like wildfire; if Oikawa wanted to put an end to the rumors and name him, he wouldn't object, but otherwise, he enjoyed being able to slip by under the radar.

That said, once Iwaizumi graduated and moved back to Tokyo, he saw that Oikawa's newest rumored beau was Ushijima. Iwaizumi immediately texted Oikawa _post it_ and Oikawa (for whom it was around 4 a.m.) immediately sent back a thumbs up emoji.

Fewer than ten minutes later, Oikawa had uploaded a picture to his public social media of them unable to help but smile while kissing, tagging Iwaizumi and very effectively putting an end to his dating life rumors. Ushijima even individually texted each of them a congratulations message.

Iwaizumi never asked, but in the back of his mind, he had always assumed that Oikawa would eventually return to Japan. After all, that was his home; he was immensely proud of all that he had achieved while abroad, but as the years passed and Oikawa continued to talk about how close he was becoming with his team, small flickers of doubt began to flutter in Iwaizumi's heart. He ignored them; he and Oikawa had always trusted each other wholly and if it was for his dream, Iwaizumi didn't mind a few more years of long distance.

His marriage proposal had slipped out; they were twenty-five now and even if Iwaizumi had been intending on proposing, it certainly wasn't in a busy Tokyo intersection while Oikawa was fiddling with his favorite road trip playlist. They'd mentioned it in passing every now and then, mostly as a teasing manner, but the longer they dated, the less and less it was mentioned because of how _real_ a possibility it was. When they were five, Iwaizumi had proposed to Oikawa before either of them knew what it meant. On his most recent trip to Argentina, they'd briefly mentioned it again and ever since the way Oikawa had smiled so warmly in the Argentinian sun as he said _of course, Iwa-chan, I'd marry you_ , Iwaizumi found it impossibly hard to not drop to a knee every time he saw Oikawa.

Iwaizumi couldn't even remember what exactly they had been talking about; he vaguely remembered Oikawa at some point asking _can Iwa-chan include more sweets in his care packages_? and Iwaizumi scoffed, snapped that fresh mochi would harden and he didn't make _that_ much as an intern to be able to pay for international overnight shipping every week.

And then somehow, eventually it had slipped out, Iwaizumi asking, _"Do you want to get married?"_

Oikawa's answer was immediate, so quick that there was barely a pause:

_"I'm staying in Argentina."_

And then the car collided with them.

The doctors had come in a few hours after Iwaizumi had been released to update him on Oikawa's condition. It was everything the nurse had mentioned, the ribs and bruising and lacerations; they added there was minor internal bleeding that would resolve on its own and were concerned that his concussion was worse than they initially assumed. Iwaizumi immediately asked what that meant and the doctor gave an apologetic shake of his head, answered they wouldn't be able to fully assess the injuries until he woke up.

_"Until?" Iwaizumi echoed. "What—when? It's been two days since it happened. I-I woke up—"_

_"We're sorry, Iwaizumi-san," the doctor said quietly, shook his head._

_"It's difficult to predict when comatose patients will wake."_

Iwaizumi refused to put too much weight into their words and forced optimism as he waited by Oikawa. He spent his days glancing idly at the television or lowly murmuring with Hanamaki and Matsukawa; a lot of the time, though, he'd just stare at Oikawa, replay their last conversation. Concern for Oikawa overrode everything; it always had and Iwaizumi was left just staring at him, _how long had you planned on leaving me?_ a fleeting thought because _please wake up_ took precedence.

On the third day after the accident, Iwaizumi received an email from his supervisor. He'd asked for a few days off because of what happened, which his supervisor was more than happy to grant him, but the email asked him to stop by his fifth floor office whenever he had a few minutes. He interned at the hospital, which was convenient; Matsukawa was at work and Hanamaki had just stepped out to run a quick errand for his sister. Iwaizumi didn't want to leave Oikawa's side but with how flexible his supervisor was being, he decided to step away to see him, figured it had to do with some paperwork.

He grabbed his backpack and let the nurse know that he should be back within an hour; she smiled, reassured she'd let him know immediately if anything changed. Before leaving, he glanced at the television one last time and frowned; the news was talking about that mysterious virus again, saying that it seemed some people had been infected. Iwaizumi vaguely made a note to himself to ask his supervisor about it; Nakami was the head of sports medicine at the hospital and Iwaizumi assumed that he'd stay up to date with rampant viruses. He'd mentioned it once or twice and Iwaizumi usually clung onto his every word but with Oikawa unconscious, Iwaizumi not turning on his heel and walking away was about the best he could do.

_"Thank you, Iwaizumi-kun. Really, you didn't need to rush here—"_

_"It's no problem," Iwaizumi shook his head as he zipped his backpack back up and slung it over his shoulder. Nakami seemed a bit more stressed than usual, but he assumed it was because he'd had to pick up the work Iwaizumi normally would do and felt bad about it. "Thank you again for your flexibility."_

_"Of course—"_

_A loud crash sounded. Iwaizumi and Nakami stared at each other for a moment before another explosion sounded in the distance. Iwaizumi flinched; he hesitated but nodded when Nakami sharply instructed him to lock the door. Iwaizumi's shoulder hit the surface as he rushed over, turning the lock and swallowing. "Nakami-sensei—"_

_"You've been watching the news, Iwaizumi-kun, haven't you?" he asked and Iwaizumi nodded, swallowing. He held his breath, watched Nakami lower the blinds and crack two apart._

_"Nakami-sensei, w-what's—"_

_A scream sounded from inside the building and it felt like it was right outside their door. Iwaizumi scrambled to the side and knocked over a potted plant by accident; Nakami dropped to his knees and when he raised a finger to his lips, Iwaizumi nodded. He moved slowly and Iwaizumi squeezed his eyes shut; his hands folded over the back of his head as he rested his forehead against his knees. Every breath felt like it tickled a bout of nausea and he heard another scream along with clattering and footsteps, this time seemingly like a man's, and immediately jerked, starting to stand. "Fuck, Oikawa—"_

_Iwaizumi had just barely managed to stand when he was pushed against the wall, this time Nakami's forearm to his chest. "Iwaizumi-kun," he whispered harshly, "I understand you're worried, but you'll be of no use to anyone if you're dead. Do you really think any good will come out of you running outside right now?"_

_Iwaizumi had always liked Nakami and if he took a moment, he knew he'd agree. But logic had never dictated anything about his relationship with Oikawa, and so he shoved his arm off with a growl and disengaged the lock._

_He pushed down on the handle but didn't even need to pull; almost immediately, he felt a sudden weight throw itself against the door and Iwaizumi yelped, fell backwards. The door swung open and slammed into his knee; he swore loudly and grasped it, looked up to see one of the other interns sink his teeth into Nakami's neck._

_Or, Iwaizumi thought, who had once been one of the other interns. He saw several chunks of missing flesh spotting his body, clothes darkened with blood. The way his body moved felt so abrupt; there wasn't that sort of fluidity in his movements that most people had. His arm moved in strange spasms and Iwaizumi only looked away at Nakami's sharp snap of his name. Breath catching, he looked to him, felt his face pale to see his expression try and keep itself from twisting to show the pain. "N-Nakami-sensei, I'm—"_

_He watched Nakami muster the strength he had to propel himself forward with his hands on the doorframe; as he did so, he yelled to lock the door and Iwaizumi obliged, shaking hands twisting the lock. He remained kneeling as he peered through the rectangular window, heart racing. Iwaizumi's relief at seeing Nakami's shoulder twitch was short-lived upon realizing it was just the zombie beneath him; he watched it bite into him again and immediately pulled back. He hurried to a corner that was out of view from the door and covered his face with his hands, tried to steady his breathing and process what had just happened, that he'd seen something eating his supervisor, that it had only happened because Iwaizumi was impulsive and—_

_Jolting at a buzzing against his thigh, Iwaizumi swore. He kept his phone on silent out of reflex from school and had never been more grateful. Even as he still heard screaming and running outside, tried not to focus on how the groans gradually became louder and more commonplace and the screams fewer. Shaking hands fumbled with his phone to answer and bring it to his face, other hand pushing his hair back. "H-hello? Hana—"_

_"Iwaizumi," he heard and Iwaizumi's eyes closed, sank against the wall. "Thank god you're all right—you're safe, right? Where are you?"_

_"I-in Nakami-sensei's office, a floor above Oikawa's," Iwaizumi stammered. "I-I should be safe here for now, but Oikawa—where are you?"_

_"I wasn't that far from the hospital, so I ran back in and barricaded myself in one of those patient checkup rooms on the first floor. This is what they talked about on the news, right? The zombies?"_

_"Y-yeah," Iwaizumi cleared his throat, hand coming over his eyes. "Hanamaki, Oikawa's—"_

_"Iwaizumi, you can't help him if you're dead," Hanamaki said immediately and Iwaizumi bit his lip. "I know it's hard but just stay put, okay? I don't know about you but it's fucking chaos outside right now. Once it calms down, I'll find you and we'll check on Oikawa together. You're on the fifth floor, right?"_

_"Five thirteen," Iwaizumi answered. "I heard some explosions earlier, do you know what that was?"_

_"I know an ambulance was overturned earlier… yeah, I heard some explosions too and saw smoke, but not near here. I don't know what the fuck's going on, but we're not going to leave without Oikawa. I called Matsukawa and he'll try and get here too."_

_Iwaizumi started to answer but his voice cut off at a growl that was far too close; he jolted and looked at the door and immediately hung up, heard Hanamaki's frantic voice abruptly end. His gaze fell to the crack between the door and the floor; he noticed a pool of blood but focused on the lingering shadow and held his breath. Only when it moved and the growling receded did he relax and pull his phone away from his chest, saw a dozen of texts from Hanamaki._

_He dialed back and closed his eyes, head to the wall. Hanamaki picked up on the first ring and Iwaizumi apologized tiredly. "Sorry, there was one right outside, but I'm fine. This floor's usually not that busy, but…"_

_"The first floor is crazy," Hanamaki said and Iwaizumi tensed, eyes opening. "It's just constant—I put a bunch of stuff in front of the door and there are no windows, so I should be fine—"_

_"Are you sure you want to try and find me?"_

_"You're closer to Oikawa. I mean, the zombies are chasing people, right? People would want to leave the building, so I think I'd have a better gauge of when it's safe. My phone's gonna die if I keep talking, but I'll try and text if I can before I head up. Just wait for me, okay? Don't move. Promise me that."_

_"All right," Iwaizumi said and swallowed. "…Stay safe, okay? Don't do anything Oikawa would."_

_Hanamaki laughed, abrupt and breathily._

_"...Yeah. Same to you."_

_When he hung up, Iwaizumi saw the blood staining his knees and forced a swallow to repel what threatened to come back up. Dabbing proved futile because he realized that most of it had already soaked into the denim and he threw away the spare tissues, tried not to think about it. His knee still ached a bit and Iwaizumi leaned forward, teased the office chair into his corner to sit in. He had half a mind to pull out his headphones and try to drown out what was happening outside but thought that would be too dangerous; he scrolled through social media and the news for a bit, tried to glean any information he could._

_The virus had suddenly gone from just affecting animals to humans; they said patient zero seemed to be a garbage man who had gotten bit and because of how easily transmissible it was, it started to spread like wildfire. It was transferred through blood and saliva and the research they'd manage to do in labs showed that as long as the infected was alive, it wouldn't be transferred to anyone else. Essentially, Iwaizumi read, if someone was bit but hadn't died and reanimated, coming into contact with their blood and saliva would be fine._

_Depending where the bite was, it could be near instantaneous death from blood loss, at which point the virus would then take effect. But if it wasn't a lethal bite, the virus caused a sort of fever that would kill the infected. Just as Iwaizumi read this, he heard a groaning outside. Unable to help his curiosity, he locked his phone and peered out the window._

_His stomach turned to see that Nakami's body was gone; instead, he saw only a middle aged man among turned over carts and scattered materials holding an arm, blood seeping from between his fingers. His face looked flushed as he wandered the hall until he collapsed and groaned in pain. "Hot," Iwaizumi heard in a strained voice, "too hot… it's too hot, too hot, it hurts, it hurts—it hurts…"_

_Iwaizumi drew back before he'd been able to make eye contact, but his heart raced as he slipped his phone into his pocket. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his fingers in his hair as he had no choice but to listen to his pained groans drag on for what had to be hours. Iwaizumi confirmed this when he checked his phone again and saw that it was already almost seven. With the blinds closed, he hadn't realized how late it was; he sent a text to Hanamaki and just as his reply came, an inhumane groan broke the tentative silence._

**From: Hanamaki**

yeah im still good. matsukawas with me. too many zombies down here right now, we're waiting for them to clear out. are you okay by yourself for the night?

_Just one outside his door had his blood freezing but he forced himself to reply that he was fine. Iwaizumi waited for the zombie to slowly meander away before crawling on his knees to the other side of the room. He pushed the couch until it was along the wall of the door and took a deep breath, laid down and used his backpack as a pillow._

_He felt almost entirely numb. After he watched Nakami throw himself out to save him after despite it having been Iwaizumi's fault that he'd been hurt, it was as if something had lodged itself in his chest and stifled his breaths, allowing just enough to breathe and move but nothing beyond that. He felt his heart beat in his cheeks, fingers cold to flushed skin and no matter if his eyes were open or closed, all he could see was that moment when Nakami was first bit._

_Hanamaki's sparse texts were just barely enough to keep him grounded and whenever Iwaizumi thought about Oikawa, he was just one impulse away from scaling down the side of the hospital building to find him._

_Oikawa's door had been open when he left. A nurse had been changing his IV drip and Iwaizumi immediately tried to recall how crowded his floor had been; he didn't think it had been too busy and Oikawa had a corner room, which Iwaizumi hoped meant he was at least a little safer from zombies just idly wandering and spotting him. He tried to recall if the nurses typically closed his door if Iwaizumi didn't; he tended to leave it just a bit ajar and wondered if zombies knew how to pull or if they could only throw their bodyweight against any flat surface._

_He took a deep breath and shook his head, forcing himself to turn onto his side. Nakami had tried to warn him but he'd ignored him and now he was dead; Iwaizumi took a deep breath because he and Hanamaki were right: he couldn't help Oikawa if he was dead. And if Oikawa was—_

_Iwaizumi's breath caught and he turned onto his other side, forced himself into a fitful sleep._

_He woke up throughout the first several hours every so often, heard dragging and bumping just beyond his wall. He always bit his lip and waited for it to be silent again to fall back asleep; as far as he could tell, as long as he stayed out of view and didn't create any unnecessary noise, they wouldn't be able to find him. He satiated his growling stomach with a spare granola bar in his backpack; he'd always carried extra snacks and water out of a habit of caution for Oikawa and so as he took a bite, he couldn't help but think about Oikawa and, for once, hope he still hadn't woken up and that he wasn't alone and terrified in a zombie infested hospital._

_The next time he woke, it was morning and his phone vibrated against his hand; Iwaizumi winced and pinched the bridge of his nose as he answered. When he heard nothing, he pulled the phone away to see that it was a text message and swiped it open._

**From: Matsukawa**

hanamaki's phone died. mines low so turned it off after this, but we're on our way to you

_As if on cue, Iwaizumi's began to flash low battery and he swore, threw his legs over the side of the couch and rifled through his backpack for his portable charger, once again something he carried around for Oikawa. He plugged it in but as he watched it charge, wondered just how long they'd have cell service anyway._

_Taking a deep breath, he pocketed both into his hoodie and leaned back against the couch. Iwaizumi stretched his leg carefully; his knee was better than yesterday but still a bit stiff, nothing that wouldn't heal on its own in the next day or two. What he was more bothered by was the blood decorating his jeans, but he refrained from switching into the pair he'd brought Oikawa, fiercely believed that he'd wake up and would not appreciate having to wear bloody pants._

_He sat forward with his elbows on his thighs and gave himself another few seconds before clearing his throat quietly and pulling out a water bottle. He drank about half before standing; his body was stiff from sleeping but after a few stretches he felt better, continued to flex his knee. He sidled over to the door first and peered outside to make sure there was nothing there; the hallway was empty except for a few unmoving bodies, faint blood streaks on the walls. Iwaizumi hesitated to wonder why these didn't reanimate when they realized they'd all died from head wounds and immediately looked away, felt his face pale._

_He hurried over to Nakami's desk and rifled through the drawers. They were mostly files that he ignored; the only sharp objects he could find were a letter opener and protractor, neither of which, he thought, would be too useful. He swore softly and looked around until he saw a pair of crutches leaning against the corner and grabbed them. He flipped one upside down and pressed at the rubber stop with a frown; would this actually work?_

_A knock came at his door and Iwaizumi tensed until he heard his name whispered harshly. He immediately opened it and let Hanamaki and Matsukawa in, locked the door before wordlessly hugging both of them. He heard Hanamaki tease but return the embrace and Matsukawa following; Iwaizumi lingered for a moment before pulling back and clearing his throat. "Tell Oikawa I cried and I'll kill you both," he mumbled as he wiped his eyes and Hanamaki laughed again._

_"He won't even care because you'll start sobbing when you see him."_

_"Seriously, Iwaizumi. You should know better by now."_

_Iwaizumi glared tiredly and Hanamaki just smirked and for just a moment, everything felt normal. He took to sitting on the desk while Iwaizumi and Matsukawa took the couch, both of them declining the water and granola bars. It was tensely silent for a moment; Iwaizumi didn't quite know what to say in this situation. Luckily for him, Hanamaki cleared his throat. "Matsukawa came prepared."_

_Iwaizumi managed a tired smile, kept his voice just as low as his. "Did you rob the funeral home?"_

_"All we really have there are candies," Matsukawa said with a frown and shook his head. "But no, I stopped by my apartment since I didn't know how long we'd be here. Do you have a plan in mind?"_

_Iwaizumi shook his head tiredly. "No, just—"_

_"Not leaving without Oikawa," they both said in unison and Iwaizumi glared tiredly._

_Hanamaki shook his head with a smirk. "Don't worry, we feel the same way. We didn't want to waste any time so we came straight here, but the fourth floor's not too bad. Most of the zombies are at the main entrance of the first floor, but with the way the hospital was built on a slope, we can probably get out the second floor if we find the right exit… or any back exit will probably work."_

_"Are there a lot of zombies inside?" Iwaizumi asked and Hanamaki shrugged._

_"Like I said, most on the first floor. Some on the second, and a few on the third and fourth. We saw maybe three on the fifth on our way here."_

_Iwaizumi nodded and licked his lips._

_"…Have you had to…?"_

_Hanamaki paused and shook his head, clearing his throat. "No, we've been pretty lucky with just sneaking past them. There also really isn't much to use as a weapon in a hospital."_

_"I found two crutches," Iwaizumi said quietly and they both glanced to the wall he gestured towards. "And a letter opener, but… I think we'd want to avoid getting that close. But you think we can get to Oikawa without having to deal with any of them?"_

_A part of him felt bad; he didn't know how tired, whether mentally or physically, Hanamaki and Matsukawa were, but Iwaizumi had been locked in this tiny office for more than half a day, absolutely losing his mind panicking over Oikawa. As if reading his mind, Matsukawa took one look at Iwaizumi and smirked lopsidedly. "Maybe we should go now, then. You look like you're about to vibrate out of your pants."_

_"Sh-shut up!"_

_"Just remember," Matsukawa said and stood, "you can't help Oikawa if you're dead, so—"_

_Iwaizumi scowled. "Yeah, yeah, you're the third person to say that to me. Let's just go."_

_He and Matsukawa each took one crutch, both fortified with crudely taped objects to the end, the letter opener for Iwaizumi and protractor for Matsukawa. As they'd said, the floors were relatively empty; they passed by a few zombies in the distance but utilized shadows and timing to their advantage to slip by. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had avoided the elevators, not wanting a surprise attack to literally befall onto them and since it was only one flight, Iwaizumi agreed and they took the stairs._

_The hospital was eerily quiet, save their footsteps. He saw blood smeared and cracked glass, swallowed thickly and tried to avoid lingering on the crumpled bodies for too long. He was imagining all the commotion he'd tried to block out while hiding in Nakami's office, of people screaming and running towards exits, loved ones feeling hands slip out of theirs and look back just to see them being bitten and piled on._

_It seemed to all happen so quickly; all the movies Iwaizumi tried to think of as reference were set after everything had happened. He'd never had thought that something like this could do this to a city as populous as Tokyo so quickly, but, Iwaizumi realized, maybe that density had been its downfall. With so many people, just one zombie with absolutely no fear had so many people in a small area to infect and that wouldn't even take into account the people that died because of stampeding._

_They turned the corner to the hall that Oikawa's room was in and Iwaizumi immediately felt a hand on his, but his feet had stopped. Oikawa's room was at the end of the hall and he could see a zombie approaching it; his first instinctive, terrified thought was that it was Oikawa, but then he saw that it had long, black hair and wore a uniform that had once been white. "…I think it's his nurse," Iwaizumi said quietly, swallowing thickly. "She's… it's…"_

_"Let's wait—"_

_"No," Iwaizumi's voice was shaking but his resolve wasn't and he gripped the crutch. "You two can wait here, but I'm not… it's heading towards Oikawa."_

_"Iwaizumi—"_

_Wrestling his arm out of Hanamaki's grasp, Iwaizumi called out a "hey" before he could think about attracting unwanted attention. Besides Hanamaki's breathy groan, Iwaizumi took a quick glance around, relieved that nothing else seemed to have heard him._

_Its head turned first, craned a hundred eighty degrees, bones cracking in a way that made Iwaizumi flinch. Its head was tilted and he couldn't tell if it was because its neck was broken but he just readjusted his grip on the crutch, held it up with the letter opener aimed. He saw Hanamaki and Matsukawa following him in a stray mirror propped up against the wall; Iwaizumi took a deep breath and kept his hands leveled as the zombie continued to approach, arms at its sides and feet dragging._

_Its steps were staggered and slow; Iwaizumi was left wondering what the running sound he'd heard yesterday was when its pace suddenly picked up and he heard a sharp call of his name. It wasn't fast in the slightest, but the sudden change startled him; Iwaizumi swore and dropped his crutch and scrambled to pick it up. He was still bent over when he felt the zombie's hand reach out, a nail scratch lightly over his face in an absolutely blood curdling, hair rising way; he flailed the crutch to knock it off balance and without hesitation, lifted it and stabbed the letter opener through its eye._

_And then he leaned over and threw up next to it._

_Matsukawa's arm came around him as he felt his knees give out and the squelch of pulling the crutch back out of the zombie had Iwaizumi's knees nearly buckling again. He distantly heard Matsukawa ask if he was all right and he nodded; he'd helped him to the ground and had a trembling hand lightly over his eyes. "Holy shit," he heard Hanamaki's voice. "That was… wow."_

_Iwaizumi took another deep breath, exhaled all the quivers through his body and stood, shook his head when he felt Matsukawa's hand on his arm. "I'm fine," he said. "Let's go."_

_"Iwaizumi—"_

_"Really," Iwaizumi shook his head. He stared at the zombie breathlessly and tore his gaze away. "Come on."_

_Besides the rationale that it was to save his own life and that it was no longer human, all that Iwaizumi had to focus on was that this was for Oikawa. That was the only thought able to temper a tsunami wave before it hit the shore and mellow a threatening eruption even before a meniscus peeked over the edges, reminding himself that he'd done what he did to keep Oikawa safe._

_To Iwaizumi, everything had always come down to Oikawa in one way or another and what had the potential to be a one-sided, draining loyalty from his part only kept from being that way because Oikawa was fully aware of it. He'd be childish and stupid and obnoxious, but he'd never purposely take advantage of Iwaizumi's devotion if it would bring harm to him. Their relationship was built on granting absolute power to one another but trusting each other to not use it and that perfect trust was what kept them anchored to one another through everything._

_Iwaizumi's steps quickened as he approached Oikawa's room. He dropped his crutch to try and move the cabinet that had fallen over; it had been one of the shelving units next to his room, along with a cart of medicine that had also fallen over. Iwaizumi had never bothered to think if it would be heavy but when he, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki weren't able to move it, he finally looked up at last and saw that it was caught perfectly behind a security camera. Swearing quietly, he tried to push it back the way it had fallen but it would then get caught on a fire sprinkler that, no matter how hard Iwaizumi tried, wouldn't move._

_"Fuck… fuck! Oikawa—"_

_"Keep your voice down, idiot," Matsukawa whispered harshly and clapped a hand over Iwaizumi's mouth. As he physically dragged him away, Hanamaki tried to navigate his way around the cabinet. He didn't seem to be able to open the door but Iwaizumi heard him knock several times and given there was no answer, Iwaizumi didn't understand why Hanamaki looked relieved._

_"Hanamaki—!"_

_"Those knocks are for sure loud enough to get a zombie's attention," Hanamaki interrupted and Iwaizumi stiffened. "So if there's no answer, that means he's not a zombie. I can't open it from here, but that means a zombie can't either and if you took a minute, you'd see the door isn't damaged. It was closed before any of this happened because there's blood and damage everywhere else. He's fine, Iwaizumi, okay? He can't get out, but nothing can get in, so just take a breath."_

_Though his logic made sense, it was definitely Matsukawa's hand over his mouth and nose that kept him from making any more noise. Iwaizumi took as deep a breath as he could and exhaled, fell limp in Matsukawa's grip. Only after that and a nod did Matsukawa pull his hand back. "But," Iwaizumi said, voice shaking, "we have to… we can't just leave him—"_

_"We won't," Hanamaki reassured. "But first thing's first, we can't sit here in the hallway in the open. We find somewhere safe and then discuss what to do."_

They'd had to go to the other side of the floor until they found a security office, almost perfectly across the courtyard from Oikawa's room. Iwaizumi, always the sort of guy people trusted, knew where the key was and so he was able to unlock the door from the outside and they had been waiting here since.

They were exhausted that first day and after securing the door, had spent the rest of the day resting. The security office was small and they were able to make use of the cameras to see which floors were safe and which weren't; there wasn't much in terms of weapons besides batons, but those at least were easier to handle than swinging a crutch around. Iwaizumi had peered through the window and just barely made out a bump in the sheets that he assumed to be Oikawa's feet and breathed his first sigh of relief before sitting back down.

This wing had been fairly empty, but whenever they crossed the hall for the washroom, they were still cautious. After doing so the next morning, they'd spent most of the day going through the hospital, looking for supplies. Iwaizumi felt bad about going into rooms and taking things, but he was running low on supplies. They'd found some food and water, the most exciting find a drone that Iwaizumi wasn't convinced they needed until Matsukawa asked how else he'd been planning on getting things to Oikawa.

The courtyard was filled with zombies and Iwaizumi finally understood why the hospital was so scarce of them. The security cameras showed that the floors above them and the first had the most; second through fourth were relatively safe for the time being. Once they gathered as much information and supplies they could, they started to talk amongst themselves in the locked office. Hanamaki, as it turned out, had paid the most attention, and Matsukawa had heard about them while at work.

_"They don't have heightened senses or anything. I think they're actually a bit worse but if you're loud, of course they'll hear."_

_"I heard that you don't have to be bit; their saliva just has to get into your bloodstream," Matsukawa added, peeling an apple. Iwaizumi blinked when Matsukawa offered him the first slice—he usually offered it to Hanamaki—but he didn't seem to mind, just shrugged. He mumbled a thanks and bit into the flesh and Matsukawa cut off another portion for Hanamaki. "So if you've got an open wound, you should cover it up."_

_"So it's definitely the saliva?" Hanamaki asked._

_"Isn't that what I just said?" Matsukawa snapped._

_Iwaizumi sighed, mumbled, "Stop," before Hanamaki could rebut. "If you don't die, it's a fever, right? Then you turn?"_

_"Yeah."_

_Iwaizumi nodded. "…Okay," he sighed and rubbed his face. "All right. …Fine."_

_"...Insightful responses, Iwaizumi."_

_"Shut up."_

_The cafeteria was on the second floor, which they'd agreed to check out in the coming days if Oikawa still hadn't woken up, but for now, the untouched lunch trays they'd found would be enough. They were surprisingly full and Matsukawa had so much water in his backpack that Iwaizumi wondered why he hadn't complained about the weight earlier. Iwaizumi sighed again and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, sat next to a growing collection of protein bars. "So we should talk about what to do, if—when he wakes up," Iwaizumi said, clearing his throat. "What do they do in movies? There's usually a shelter, right?"_

_His hand shook whenever he tried to do anything no matter how much he tried to keep the tremors to a minimum and he was grateful that while his friends definitely saw, they didn't mention it. Iwaizumi's trembling was synonymous to Hanamaki's knit brow and Matsukawa's eternal frown; they didn't want to talk about it but they had to, tried to discuss it as they would discuss anything else, but it didn't change the reality of what had happened._

_At least, Iwaizumi thought, he had two of his closest friends. He was incredibly grateful for that._

_Hanamaki nodded. He'd had the television on in the morning but signal cut out by early afternoon. "News said the whole country's affected, but I'd think if they were to set up a shelter, Tokyo would definitely be one of the first places. They might even be starting already."_

_"I can go out and look," Matsukawa offered and Hanamaki shot him a look._

_"What do you mean look? You think if you wander around outside, you'll just magically find something?"_

_Matsukawa glared. "I'm saying I'll see what I can find. We've probably learned as much from the news channels as we can; the signal's already getting pretty bad and even cell service is starting to give way. All we have are these walkie talkies, and they only work within a certain range."_

_"You think that's safe? Christ, you're stupid—"_

_"Hey," Iwaizumi interrupted tiredly, turning to the two of them. "I get it's a stressful situation, but stop fighting. Please. I think Matsukawa has a point, it might be worth it to try and find any other survivors, they might know something," he said and sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I can't leave here, but you two probably should."_

_"Both of us?" Hanamaki echoed. "Iwa—"_

_"I wouldn't want to be separated from Oikawa right now," Iwaizumi said quietly. They both fell silent and nodded after a pause. Iwaizumi reached to his other side to pick up one of the walkie talkies to hand to Hanamaki. "If you guys want to wait here with me, I don't mind, but if you're getting restless, you can also go out and look. It could save us time to split up."_

After about another hour, the two had set out. Matsukawa's backpack was significantly lighter, leaving most of the water with Iwaizumi and they promised to be back before the sun set or to let him know with the walkie talkie where they were. It hadn't occurred to him when the television cut out, but when he went to check his phone, he blinked to see that it was at full battery but with no signal and frowned, grumbling under his breath. At least it was enough to tell the time, though, and around three thirty, Iwaizumi decided to make a round on the fifth floor.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for; maybe he wasn't looking for anything, but sitting around and seeing no movement in Oikawa's room was leaving him on edge. Iwaizumi had one of the batons secured against his hip but still carried his crutch with him as he made his way through the hallways.

The second zombie was easier and the third easier still; it still wasn't something he'd see himself ever becoming accustomed to and it would always take a conscious effort on his part to look at something that looked so eerily human and kill it. It was to make the hospital safer, he repeatedly told himself, it was for Oikawa's safety.

He'd emptied his backpack in the security office and filled the space with a few bags of snacks he found and some spare blankets. Iwaizumi heard a crackle against his hip and immediately ducked into the nearest room and locked it, nestling into a corner and bringing it to his lips. His phone told him that it was about seven thirty by this point; he didn't feel hungry, but recognized a shaking that didn't take a degree in sports medicine to diagnose.

"Yeah," he mumbled as he slipped off his backpack and coaxed out a protein bar, opening the wrapper with his teeth. "What's up?"

"Hey," he heard Hanamaki, "so we went to Tokyo Station since it's pretty close to the hospital and it turns out they're setting up a shelter here."

"For real?" Iwaizumi asked, brow knitting. "That fast?"

"Yeah," Hanamaki answered and Iwaizumi heard mumbling in the background, frowned a little when Hanamaki's voice sounded sharper than usual. "Sorry. Anyway, they just quarantined us for a bit and let us in. They've got cots and food and supplies. I told them about you and Oikawa and they said they're going to start sending helicopters around the city looking for survivors, and they'll definitely stop by the hospital tomorrow probably around noon, if you two can get up there. I—shut up, Matsukawa, I know he's not awake, but it's not like I can ask them to keep circling until he does—"

"Thanks," Iwaizumi interrupted, rubbing his face. "H-he might wake up tonight, so that's good. You two should stay there, though."

"What? No—"

"Seriously, it's safer there than it is here. I'll be fine. I was on the fifth floor today and it's pretty empty. Besides, this way you can keep me updated on what they're planning to do," Iwaizumi said. He heard another protest, this time from Matsukawa and shook his head. "I'm fine. We'll keep communicating with these, but I'm not leaving without Oikawa."

If it were anyone else, Iwaizumi would have expected the argument to last longer, but Hanamaki and Matsukawa had known them since they started high school. He heard a sigh after a slight delay, followed by an _okay_. "But just know that we aren't either, okay? No matter what happens, you're not going to be alone. If you don't show up soon, we're going to come back for you."

"Fine," Iwaizumi smiled tiredly. "Thanks. I'll talk to you guys tomorrow."

Iwaizumi took another moment to collect himself before standing and making his way back to the security office. It was almost eight by the time he idly glanced through the window and noted no movement; the hospital's outdoor lamps were just enough for him to discern any shadows moving but he didn't focus too much to try and see if anything had changed in Oikawa's room. He locked his door and leaned the crutch against the wall and settled into the makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. He hadn't been able to find any spare clothes besides paper scrubs and with the gift shop on the first floor, Iwaizumi thought it too dangerous.

He'd locked himself in the bathroom a while ago and while he'd been trying to wash himself as best he could, he also took the time to try and scrub out the dried blood from his clothes. The specks in his hoodie came out relatively easily but the dried stains in his jeans didn't; it was at least better than it was originally, though Iwaizumi had never quite had to wear clothes so stiff, especially his jeans.

Downing a water bottle, he laid down and stared at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head. In two days, it felt like the entire world had changed. He'd purposely tried not to linger on the faces of who he saw; the distortion of the reanimation wasn't quite enough to entirely blur who they'd once been and while it was one thing to kill something that looked like a human, it was another to kill something that used to be someone he knew.

Aside from collecting supplies, he'd also spent the day studying the layouts of the floors, confirmed that besides the first floor, two through five were of the same layout. He hadn't checked six or seven, but from what he saw in the cameras, six seemed to be the same and seven was the operating floor, so it had a simpler layout. Iwaizumi checked the staircases and whenever he came across an elevator, he'd tentatively knock on it. He didn't hear anything on the fourth floor, but when he tried on the fifth floor, he'd nearly fallen at the sudden vicious groaning and made a mental note to absolutely avoid the elevators.

He sat up with a sigh and reached for his phone again. It was ten; he briefly considered seeing if Hanamaki or Matsukawa were awake, but he didn't have anything in particular to talk about. Iwaizumi was exhausted; his body was fatigued, his knee's ache was gone but his legs in general felt stiff. And yet, adrenaline and panic rendered it impossible for him to do anything but stay awake. He leaned over to grab another protein bar to eat; he'd actually found some lychee jellies that he thought Oikawa would like when he woke up and for that reason and that reason alone, kept from eating them, no matter how tempting they were.

The world had ended and there was nothing left, and yet Oikawa waking up still presented itself at the foremost of Iwaizumi's concerns. In a world where there was nothing, Oikawa was all that was left to him; he was grateful to have Hanamaki and Matsukawa, but if Oikawa never woke up—

Iwaizumi cut off his thinking. He'd wake up, he reassured himself and pretended he hadn't crushed half the protein bar by accident.

He took another sip of water and kicked off his shoes, leaving them off the blanket and stood, stretching one last time. He didn't expect much but glanced out the window again, if only so he could sleep as peacefully as was possible, but then he noticed there wasn't a bump on the bed where there used to be.

In fact, the bed was noticeably disheveled. Iwaizumi's arms were still up in mid stretch when he saw Oikawa walk into view, standing on the bed and holding the sheet in his hands.

Oikawa, awake.

Oikawa, moving.

Oikawa, alive.

Oikawa, _human_.

Iwaizumi's arms came down so quickly that it hit the wall, bang echoing in the small room. He immediately pressed a palm against the window and remembered to not yell at the last minute; he was lucky to not have attracted any attention so far and he bit his lip, brow knitting. He clenched his fist and bowed his head as he took a deep shuddered breath; Oikawa was awake, he thought to himself, he was _awake_. He _knew_ he'd wake up, he thought; they'd be fine. He'd go to the fourth floor right now and talk to him and then tell Hanamaki and Matsukawa the good news, and they'd be fine.

At least that's what he thought until he looked up again and saw Oikawa tying a noose.

Iwaizumi didn't think there existed a way in the entire universe to describe the fear he felt surge through his body. He watched the way Oikawa jolt and turn to the door and his breath caught; he started to turn before realizing he couldn't risk taking too long to get to him and instead began to rifle through everything he'd amassed, finding a flashlight. He switched it on and pressed it to the window, other hand hitting at the glass desperately. "Fuck… _fuck_ , Oikawa, holy shit—"

The sheet had fallen but Oikawa was just picking it back up, this time looping it through the ceiling first. Iwaizumi let the flashlight clatter and turned back to the desk. He threw drawers open and rifled through them, feeling both a flush and a chill overtaking him. He finally found a laser; clicking it experimentally, he watched a small dot present itself on the light, remembered the one time he and Oikawa looked after a friend's cat and how both Oikawa and the cat had gotten distracted by the laser.

Whirling around, Iwaizumi clicked it again and aimed it to the wall directly opposite of Oikawa, a plethora of swears spilling from his lips. His eyes darted to Oikawa, whose chin had almost touched the tied sheet and he began to move the laser rapidly sideways.

And then Oikawa stopped. He froze and when Iwaizumi moved the laser again, he fell backwards and Iwaizumi almost dropped the laser out of relief. But he kept moving it and pressed his other hand to the window desperately and when Oikawa was on his feet and staring at him, Iwaizumi finally let the laser clatter to the window sill, fist closed and pressed to the glass.

He waved reflexively; he wasn't sure how it came off, but it felt like it took all his energy and Iwaizumi almost collapsed in relief. Tremors raced along his limbs and relief manifested in an almost overwhelming desire to scream his head off at Oikawa for how _stupid_ he'd been and how Iwaizumi was absolutely going to let him _have it_ , know that as soon as he got him out, he was going to hug him and never let him go.

But he looked at him again and as quickly as that surge of unbelievable terrified anger welled in his chest, the pure desire to just be with him and hold him won out as soon as he saw him because Iwaizumi thought he'd just narrowly avoided having to live out his nightmare.

Oikawa waved back and Iwaizumi gave a shaky nod. He bent down and hastily filled a lunch box they'd found at a nurse's station with water and protein bars and another walkie talkie from another set Iwaizumi found in the fifth floor's security office. He attached it to the drone and stood, tapping at his window before opening it. Oikawa was just staring without moving but Iwaizumi assumed he'd understand once the drone was close enough and reached for the remote, brought it to life and navigated it across the courtyard.

He felt robotic as he watched it move and Oikawa receive it; once it was safely in Oikawa's hands, Iwaizumi closed the window and let the remote fall from his shaking hands, pick up the other walkie talkie and press the button impatiently as he waited. He didn't think he'd ever be able to stop seeing the way Oikawa almost—

He shook his head and drummed his fingers along the sill. "Hurry up," he mumbled, "this piece of shit…"

There was a crackle.

"H-hello—"

" _You fucking dumbass!"_ He just barely managed to keep his voice to a low level, but it was so strained that he still saw the top of Oikawa's head flinch. " _What the hell?!_ Are you fucking insane?! What the hell do you think you're doing?! I look over and you're about to—"

He cut off because a sob threatened to rip him apart.

"What were you thinking?!" he snapped, gripping the walkie talkie so tightly he heard the plastic casing squeak beneath his grip. A part of him felt bad to be like this but he'd been so terrified; just those few seconds rattled him more than the last forty eight hours left, to see Oikawa almost end his own life right in front of him.

And then Iwaizumi started to blame himself; how long had he been awake? Oikawa absolutely would never resort to that without having tried something else first; he must've been awake for a while and it was only after realizing he was stuck and alone that his mind had started to spiral. He was awake for hours, Iwaizumi thought with a sickening twist, and Iwaizumi was just traipsing around the fifth floor and staring at the ceiling, fiddling his thumbs. Was he awake when he'd glanced over earlier? Was it because he'd been so careless that he didn't notice?

"I-I'm sorry," he heard and all the anger he felt immediately ebbed because he'd never been strong against Oikawa crying. "I-I don't know, I woke up, th-there's—"

He heard tears and lifted his thumb to take a moment. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment in a gentler but still gruff voice. "I shouldn't have yelled like that, it's… it's a lot to wake up to."

"I don't know anything," Iwaizumi heard. "I woke up and—and I didn't even know my name, I don't—I know Spanish, apparently? I—"

Iwaizumi's blood felt like someone had blasted dry ice at it.

"Wait," he breathed, "what? You don't know your name?"

He heard a pause. Oikawa was still on the ground, but Iwaizumi could see the top of his head, particularly when he leaned forward. "W-wait, don't leave—"

"I'm not," Iwaizumi answered immediately and closed his eyes, brow knitting. His free hand steadied himself on the windowsill; his breathing was shallow suddenly and head spinning, thought that he'd avoided one nightmare just to realize one he'd never even imagined of. "Don't worry, I'm—"

He paused and licked his lips, desperately hoped this was just the meanest joke Oikawa could ever pull on him. "…W-what do you mean you don't know your own name?"

Oikawa's words kept echoing in his mind; the doctor had mentioned Oikawa seemed disoriented and confused, but he'd thought it was because of the accident and it would be a short-term state. But he'd been awake for a few hours by this point and was still confused; Iwaizumi didn't know if he was supposed to tell him everything. He'd been so overwhelmed that he'd almost done something that drastic and Iwaizumi didn't want to further suffocate him with _I'm your boyfriend, I proposed to you, we got into an accident, I've been waiting for you for days, you're the love of my life_ right afterwards.

Oikawa still hadn't said anything. "Hey, are you there?" he asked kindly, managed to keep impatience from leaking into his voice. Panic left his mind feeling like he was on a ship about to capsize but his eyes fixed stubbornly on Oikawa's window. "Talk to me." _This can't be real… this can't be real, this can't be happening, you can't..._

"Y-yeah, sorry," Oikawa answered after another moment and Iwaizumi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "I'm… I'm scared. I woke up alone, thinking I was the only person and you saved my life, p-please don't leave. I know I can only be a burden but you're all I h-have."

"I promise I won't," Iwaizumi said quietly. He swallowed, nails scratching against the windowsill and tried to swallow a bout of nausea that threatened to throw him off balance the way Oikawa had just done to his entire world. "Just… just tell me what happened. What you do know, if anything."

He raised his thumb from the button and leaned against the wall, still watching him. He felt like he didn't quite have control over his body as he listened to him; this had to be a nightmare, he thought. Oikawa losing his memories in any situation would be a nightmare, but during an apocalypse?

That seemed like the one in a million that they'd only be victim of because of a heinous crime a past reincarnation committed.

Iwaizumi had always thought that Oikawa was the one who was good at compartmentalizing but as he managed to stay standing and keep his voice even, he thought that he may have picked up a thing or two from him.

"My name is Oikawa Tooru," he heard. "I know that because of the medical charts. I was in… in an accident and woke up after being unconscious for two days. That's… that's all. That's all I could find out. I tried to go outside but something's blocking my door and there's…"

"A zombie," Iwaizumi finished softly. He pressed his lips into a thin line, hand shaking so badly the walkie talkie's antenna bumped against his face a few times as he tried to keep himself calm. "...They're zombies. They're in the courtyard too. I'd close your window. We're on the fourth floor so I doubt they can get up here if they hear you, but just in case."

He watched Oikawa stand and close the window and even through the courtyard distance, Iwaizumi could tell they'd locked gazes for a moment. "Thank you," Oikawa said. "I… I'm sorry, this is just taking a minute to…"

"It's fine."

His voice sounded foreign to himself and Iwaizumi raised his thumb again, swallowing and swearing under his breath. He desperately wanted to fall to the ground and scream into a pillow; Iwaizumi didn't even entertain that this was a dream because this was something so awful that he couldn't see his subconscious ever putting himself through. It was hard to bring enough air into his lungs and if he couldn't see Oikawa all the way across the courtyard, so small and so far but so obviously terrified, Iwaizumi was sure he would've collapsed by now.

He was a stranger to Oikawa, he realized sickeningly. Oikawa saw him as a stranger on the opposite side of the hospital, while Iwaizumi saw him as the love of his life and entire world, the one reason Iwaizumi had been able to hold himself together and think rationally. That person now didn't know who Iwaizumi was.

Iwaizumi had proposed to Oikawa right before the accident.

He took a deep breath because he'd been ready to promise to be with Oikawa no matter what and this fell under one of those situations. Closing his eyes and swallowing thickly, he forced his own panic out of his mind and exhaled, pressed the button.

"You said you were unconscious for two days, right?" he said, voice distant and even. "That's when it happened. The days leading up to it, the news were reporting about attacks here and there, mostly of rabid rats biting bigger animals. But then a human was bit and it seems to spread insanely quickly… once you're bit, you die and you become one of them. All I could find out before television and internet cut out was that it spreads through the blood and saliva. How are you feeling? Physically, I mean."

He was rattling off a condensed version of everything he'd read and heard, realized he didn't blink a single time, barely heard his own voice, but Oikawa wasn't questioning anything. He understood, Iwaizumi thought, he was able to understand all of this, but he didn't remember _him_?

He shook his head, told himself to stop being selfish as he waited for Oikawa to answer.

"F-fine. I'm fine," Oikawa answered.

Iwaizumi hesitated, though back to all his bruises and narrowed his eyes. "Really? You're not in pain? At all? You were in an accident, weren't you?"

"I'm fine," Oikawa repeated and Iwaizumi twitched because he was definitely lying. "I just… I'd like to get out of here. Thank you for the food and water, but I don't think I can spend too much longer in this room."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi said softly after a pause and looked away. He cleared his throat. "A cabinet or something fell over and it's wedged itself, so that's what's blocking your door and protecting you. The air vents should be fine, though. Tomorrow I'll go to you and get you out."

"Air vents? You're sure?"

"I work in this hospital." Oikawa was the one who encouraged him to apply and celebrated when he received an offer. "So yeah, I know the layout pretty well. If the food I sent over isn't enough, let me know."

"It should be, thank you. I have some fruits and chocolates. So tomorrow?"

Iwaizumi felt robotic as he nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty late now."

He paused and grasped the walkie talkie tighter. "…Unless there's a specific reason you don't feel safe. I can come over tonight if that's the case."

Maybe, Iwaizumi thought, if he saw him in person—

"N-no," Oikawa rushed and Iwaizumi thanked the distance to conceal the brief disappointment that flashed over his expression. "I'm fine, I don't want to rush you. Tomorrow's fine. Thank you again, really, you… you saved my life."

Iwaizumi nodded even though he knew Oikawa couldn't see. "I know it's late, but can I ask one more thing?" he heard and nodded.

"Of course."

A pause.

"Can I know your name?"

Iwaizumi's knees nearly buckled.

Oikawa's first words had been _Iwa-chan_. There was a chance their moms lied when they said that, but Oikawa so firmly believed it that it didn't even matter if that was true or not; Oikawa had always been the only one to call him _Iwa-chan_ and was so studious in doing so that Iwaizumi, in elementary school, was legitimately concerned Oikawa didn't know his full name because he was either _Iwa-chan_ or _Hajime_. But one day during a class exercise, Oikawa had written out _Iwaizumi Hajime_ and slid it over for Iwaizumi to confirm the kanji and he'd never thought his name looked better than in seven-year-old Oikawa's shaky handwriting.

He cleared his throat. "Iwaizumi."

He swallowed to keep his tears at bay.

"Iwaizumi Hajime."

Iwaizumi realized he was a masochist because of all the hope he allowed himself to feel that maybe hearing his name would magically fix everything.

"Iwaizumi-san," he heard and felt his heart break more than he thought he'd ever feel from Oikawa. "Thank you again, really. I won't keep you so… I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"…Yeah."

Iwaizumi saw Oikawa look at him one last time before turning away and he did the same. His shaking legs collapsed onto the blanket and he shifted onto his back, heels of his palms pressed into his eyes. He turned over after a moment and buried his face into his pillow to yell, but it barely helped and he spent the next several minutes tiredly waiting to see if that had attracted any attention.

In his only stroke of luck of the night, it didn't.

Oikawa didn't have his memories, he thought. Oikawa didn't remember him. Oikawa didn't remember anyone or anything; he didn't remember _Iwaizumi_. He was too exhausted to try and recount all of this to Hanamaki and Matsukawa; Oikawa was the only person he wanted to go to when he felt the way he did right now, but that Oikawa was gone. The person who was his home, who was his comfort, who was his entire world was gone, left behind the physical representation of who Oikawa was but not the essence of what made him Tooru.

And yet, Iwaizumi would still do anything for that man across the courtyard.

He heard a crackle and immediately grabbed the walkie talkie and brought it to his lips. "Are you okay?"

"I… um… I-I'm fine," Oikawa sounded surprised and Iwaizumi wondered if he'd been too harsh and sudden with his response. "I… I just…"

His body relaxed and he removed his thumb temporarily as he draped his other arm over his eyes. Licking his lips, he sighed; he was tired and he wanted to sleep and come to terms with what had happened, but he couldn't leave even a memory-less Oikawa alone when he was so obviously distraught. "Do you wanna talk about zombie stuff and logistics or… just stupid stuff?" he asked gently.

He could _hear_ the way Oikawa relaxed and couldn't help but feel something in his own chest untangle. "Stupid stuff."

"Mm… do you know the Loch Ness monster? And Godzilla?"

"Surprisingly, yes. The memory thing is strange… I don't remember any personal memories but things like that, I seem to know." Iwaizumi laughed quietly, tried not to think about how Oikawa would remember Iwaizumi's favorite monster but not Iwaizumi.

"Huh, that is weird," he managed to say calmly. He moved the arm over his eyes to over his stomach and stared at the ceiling. "All right, then let's test what you know. Which would win in a fight?"

It was one of their old favorite arguments because Iwaizumi never faltered from a chance to brag about Godzilla and Oikawa just liked to challenge him. They'd always pitted Godzilla against the Loch Ness monster because one time it had been Godzilla versus aliens, and they didn't speak to each other for two weeks.

"Loch Ness, no? Knock Godzilla into the water and he's toast."

Iwaizumi couldn't help but smile, felt a tear escape his eyes. He released the button so Oikawa wouldn't hear the way he sniffled because this was so achingly familiar and yet he felt like a stranger all at the same time and Iwaizumi hated this, but he loved Oikawa and couldn't put him at risk because of his own weaknesses.

"How're you going to knock Godzilla into the water?" Iwaizumi bantered. "You know he's huge, right?"

"We live on an island," Oikawa answered. "It's not as if the Loch Ness monster can come onto land so if they were to fight, wouldn't Godzilla have to go to him?"

Iwaizumi almost scoffed.

"You think _monsters_ would think to limit themselves geographically? And who said this fight was taking place in Tokyo?"

Tomorrow, Iwaizumi thought, he'd deal with it. Tomorrow, he'd deal with pretending that the love of his life was just a random person and that Iwaizumi's actions were motivated by him being a good Samaritan. Tomorrow, he'd tell Hanamaki and Matsukawa what had happened. Tomorrow, he'd act completely fine and like nothing mattered and like he didn't know Oikawa better than he knew himself. Tomorrow, he'd deal with the soul wrenching agony of his soulmate forgetting who he was. Tomorrow, he would do that. Tomorrow, he'd face his heartbreak.

Tonight, he would just be Iwaizumi talking to Oikawa, look out the window at the twinkling stars, arguing over monsters through walkie talkies, just like when they were six.

"So Godzilla is in Scotland now? How did that happen? I don't think he'd fit in first class."

"Are you body shaming Godzilla?" Iwaizumi asked with a frown.

"I'm not body shaming," came the easy answer. "I'm stating facts. Isn't he over a hundred meters tall? Even Godzilla has a weakness, doesn't he?"

Oikawa didn't mean it maliciously, and yet Iwaizumi's breath caught in his throat. He turned to face the direction that Oikawa was in and even though all he saw was the chipped wall trimming and outlets, knowing that Oikawa was two walls and a courtyard enough away was enough that even though Iwaizumi's shattered heart had been bleeding, knowing Oikawa was _there_ was enough for the pieces to start rearranging themselves, slot into the gaps as best they could.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"...Guess so. Everyone's got a weakness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay!!! not for iwa suffering but because the first chapter was just world building but now it's starting to get into actual plot!! very iwaoi heavy for the first several chapters but starting chapter four, it'll shift to the others and it'll just be a fun time for everyone except when they start suffering
> 
> thank you for reading!! kudos/comments incredibly appreciated ♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/umebomi)

**Author's Note:**

> me? enjoy the pain of amnesia au so much that i work it into another au that's generally already tinged with devastation and misery? of course not, why would i ever do that?
> 
> if you are still here and willing to embark on this adventure with me, thank you :) as always, incredibly appreciate kudos/comments, especially as i continue to flush out the plot! ♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/umebomi)


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